Dusk had begun to settle upon the Bar O ranch when the riderless Monty came into the ranch-yard and trotted up to the corral gate. The absence of the boys had not been noticed, for it was no unusual thing for them to remain out even long after dark. But when Bill Jordan saw Monty come in alone, he at once sent for Mr. Sherwood, who came in haste, and the other members of the outfit, among whom were Walker and his companion, gathered about also.
"This here Monty horse just come in without your boy!" said Bill, with evident concern in his voice. "I reckon we better send out all hands an' see what's happened. Mebbe the' ain't nuthin' happened—Injun was with Whitey, but I don't like the looks o' this."
"Did any of you men see the boys?" asked Mr. Sherwood, anxiously.
"Me an' Hartley seen 'em," said Walker. "They was way off near the branch an' was headed in the direction of the Cross an' Circle, tho' I don't cal'clate they was goin' there. Me an' Hartley headed 'em off, an' questioned 'em, an' they said they was just takin' a ride. I tol' 'em they better keep away from the Cross an' Circle an' not to git off 'n the ranch. It's a cinch they're off that way!"
As Walker and one or two of the other men were about to start, Bill Jordan called a halt. Turning to the men, he said—
"Let ever'body drop what they's a doin' an' come along. Better take yer guns, fer the's no tellin' what kind o' mischief them two's got mixed into. Spread out fan-shape, an' keep within' hailin' distance. Don't over-look nuthin'."
Within less time than it takes to tell it, every available man on the Bar O ranch was in the saddle and headed in a north-westerly direction. It would have been impossible to back-trail Monty, even in daylight; but in the present light, it was out of the question; and the only logical method was to go to where the boys had been last seen. Naturally, Walker and Hartley led the searching party, Mr. Sherwood keeping by the side of Bill Jordan, who was really in command.
"What do you make of it, Jordan?" Mr. Sherwood asked, a shade of anxiety coming over his face.
"Why, Boss, it prob'ally ain't nuthin', much—horse might 'a' got scared an' throwed him, tho' 'f thet was the case, 't looks as tho' Injun might 'a' ketched him—but mebbe not. 'Tain't really much good spec'latin', fer any one of a dozen things could 'a' happened. The's one thing I bin studyin' 'bout an' I hope it ain't thet."
"What do you mean?" asked Sherwood.